The Secret of Spring (3 page)

"I have the secret to absolute power?" she asked, dazed. "But if it can never be revealed, even to me, what's the point?"

"There are two ways to release the secrets. Either I could say a code spell that would trigger
a transference
, or someone else could receive the information another way."

"Another way? How?"

"It, ah, um, I, that is to say-"

"Out with it, father! I need to know."

Gabriel struggled to voice the concept. "When you find a suitable young man, and are interested in, er, in a manner of speaking-"

"What are you trying to say, father?"

"When a young man and a young woman, the bees and the birds, romance-"

"What does love have to do with it?"

Gabriel made a supreme effort. "The secrets will activate and transfer telepathically to your partner when you make love for the first time."

Spring was shocked. "Carnal knowledge?"

Gabriel blushed. "Very nicely put. But, knowing you, I feel confident with this safeguard."

"Because you suppose I'm too unattractive ever to get that close to a man?" she demanded indignantly. "Thank you so much, father!"

"Oh, no, no, no, Spring, no!" he protested, flustered. "I believe you are supremely attractive! It's that I trust your judgment. I did not do this without some long and careful thought. If anyone but
myself
is to activate the secret, it must only be by the permission of my most trusted daughter."

Suddenly
Spring
understood Zygote's attentions. It was not her body he was interested in, but her mind. Or rather the secrets it contained. Somehow Zygote had discovered she was the key. If he caught her away from the protection of her father, it was doubtful he would be gentle in his extraction.

"And now you fear that Zygote will try to kidnap me," she said, not even phrasing it as a question.

"Yes. I have reason to believe he intends to strike soon. There-fore I must hide you, until this threat has passed."

It did make sense. "Where am I going?"

"I would prefer that you not know, until you are actually aboard the ship. That should help protect your location from discovery."

That, too, made sense. So she let it be. But as they zipped randomly in to the
lightport
, she inquired about one other thing. "Why all the business with the equipment, today?"

"I was verifying that the information remains in place, together with its guardian routines. My equipment will no longer access the information itself, but does attune to certain marker keys I implanted. They are all in order. I had to be sure that no error had developed, no
unprogrammed
access. I am only approximately pleased that all remains in order, because of the threat to you it represents."

"I'm like a bomb wired to detonate if anyone tries to disarm it," she said with a wry smile.

"An unfortunately apt analogy." Then he kissed her, and she saw the tears in his eyes again as he gave her the coded ticket. "I hope that some year you can forgive me for what I have done to you."

"Of course I forgive you, father! I would have done anything you asked to be of help in your quest. I know it is all you have lived for since my mother's passing." She knew of the circumstances, yet still felt an unreasonable guilt as the destroyer of their happiness. She had always hoped he would find another woman to replace his loss, but he had not, saying there had been only one such as
she
. Spring found that touching and hoped to one day
be
as fortunate. To find that one true love, as he had felt he had in his Laurel.

That would have to wait, now. Perhaps forever. "Beware of whom you trust," her father warned. "Zygote's spies are everywhere, and they will stop at nothing." She promised to be alert, and then they embraced, saying a last farewell until they met again. But she feared that was not to be.

Nevertheless, she held her chin high as she entered the port and boarded the ship whose code matched that of the ticket. No one would know that her heart was breaking.

3

Sharing

    
Thousands of solar years after the Age of Light, and for as
 
many more before the descent of the Great Darkness, in those wondrous days when men traversed the distant galaxies, not in spaceships, but as one with the energy of light itself, was P#23 born!"

Thus spoke the ancient
Vinese
Elder, his vines trembling both with age and pious fervor as the rapt congregation of
Vinese
,
Treeple
, and
Veganoids
clung,
boughed
, or knelt respectfully in separate rows.

The sacred sowing season was upon them, and it was on Founder's Day at sunrise that the most holy of all the spring rites were performed. On that day alone did all three species of intelligent life inhabiting the small planetoid come together, leaving the temples of their diverse denominations to meet in the Great Hall on common ground. There, ethnic, cultural, and personal differences were put aside as all gathered as one for the Sharing.

The Great Hall, a huge outdoor temple, was resplendent with fragrant spring foliage and blossoms. The sandalwood trees exuded a musky scent while the muted sound of reeds played lightly on the breeze. It was truly a majestic and inspirational setting for the most hallowed of days.

Herb Moss squirmed in his secluded spot on the fifty-third row. He hoped neither Elder nor fellow worshiper would notice, but the truth was he had been kneeling in one position for so long that his knees were asleep. It was hard to concentrate on lofty matters of the Light with tingling joints. But that was only one of his problems.

Herb regarded himself as an ordinary
Veganoid
and was not particularly religious. He felt awkward as always when suffered to attend these days of commitment. First
came
the interminable sermon, The Reminder, hailing the Founder and recounting the long history of their small planetoid. The sacred rites of Renewal followed. Another long and clinging ceremony.

It was not that he was a disbeliever. On the contrary, he had much respect for the Founder. It was these organized theological pantomimes he objected to, with their rigid, greener-than-thou attitudes. Let each grow in
his own
way! That was Herb's motto. And at Herb's age, spring after spring, it was all worn soil by now. He could quote the history of his home planet by rote.

Herb ceased pondering his beginnings as a young
Treeple
passed cups down his row for the Sharing ceremony. He accepted his, observing a bunchy
Vinese
female as she rolled to the pulpit. The rite of Rebirth was about to begin.

The Elder extended his vines, assisting her onto the hard earthen mound, and then led the faithful in the first of the traditional chants.

"Praise the Light! The Light is life!" He opened his leaves in acceptance as the congregation mimicked the gesture, repeating the chant in unison.

The Elder raised the cup and poured the clear cool liquid over the tender leaves of the female.

"Praise the Water!" he began. "Water is life!"

The female quivered with emotion, her blossoms losing a few soft petals. She was in full bloom, as was the proper state for the ceremony.

The congregation deposited their cups over their foliage in like manner as all chanted away. Herb hoped no one had seen him as he quaffed his down instead. He was terribly thirsty.

Reaching into the earthen mound, the Elder gathered and threw a scoop of soil onto the female's roots, signifying growth.

"Praise the Soil!" chanted the believers, dipping their own limbs into the tilled rows before them.

At last the Elder reached into the center of the
Vinese
female's foliage, clipping gently with his shears. He held the tender green cutting up for the congregation to admire. It was a strong and healthy shoot. Carefully, he placed the cutting into the soil, poured water, and extended the Founder's Day blessing, "Grow and flourish!"

The ceremony ended with an invocation, and many went forward, reaffirming their belief. At last it was over.

"Amen," said Herb, slapping his thighs in an attempt to bring life back into his aching limbs. Growing pains were nothing compared to this!

Yet Herb was glad he had observed the rites. They were a pain in the nether section, but they did serve to refresh his heritage. But for an unusual series of past events, his kind would not exist. It was proper to appreciate this.

Just previous to the forming of the Human Conception, as it was dubbed by the devotees, Dr. Ni
Gell
, one of New World's foremost genetic programmers, made a tremendous breakthrough by creating intelligent life hitherto believed impossible: the successful grafting of plant and animal tissue.

The doctor believed the new form could possibly inhabit those planets with a large carbon dioxide-based atmosphere. With time, the new life would flourish, giving out sufficient amounts of its waste, oxygen, to transform the environment, eventually changing the inherent atmosphere of such planets to a breathable ratio for Earthlings. Herb had only an elementary grasp of the theory, but it had been hoped that the forms would adapt through evolution, and in that way open new worlds to future generations.

It was a long-term project at best, but one considered feasible enough to gain support from Central. When words of the NWSL experiment leaked out, however,
Humanite
followers screamed heresy, denouncing NWSL and the doctor as a vile blasphemer. But Dr. Ni
Gell
did deserve credit. If not for his lone sacrifice, Paradise would be just another green ball in space.

After the return of the other humans to New World, only
Gell
had remained to carry on. The few plant/humanoid mutations he had successfully developed which had somehow managed to survive the terrible blight, served as his assistants and companions.

Without a fresh supply of cells, for
all the
inventory had been stripped and returned along with the other scientists, he had been forced to use the only tissue available to him: that of his own body. He had feared, after deliberately contracting the blight, what such contamination would mean for the future strain.

He need not have. Miraculously, his cells when injected into a living mutation proved to be the very vaccine he needed to exact a cure. By
reinjecting
those same cells into himself, he was able to arrest its progress for longer periods of time, though never achieving a total cure upon his human system.

Years later at the time of his death, he had left prototypes of sufficient health and intelligence to carry on his work. His greatest contribution, however, was of a more personal nature. He had taken one of the female prototypes as a companion and she had successfully born him a son. Spiritually and physically he was truly the father of them all.

Eventually, three main intelligent offshoots came to inhabit the green sphere:
Treeples
,
Vinese
, and
Veganoids
such as Herb.

Treeples
were of a dark wooden hue, with supple bark-textured skin. Their general appearance was that of a young maple, with eight branches spreading above a face which was inset into the upper portion of the trunk. Leafy branches served the same purpose as arms, and twigs as fingers. From a distance the foliage gave the appearance of a great head of hair towering above the small face.

Their trunks were divided into two sections for legs beneath the torso, allowing for upright locomotion on a strong root foundation, the equivalent of human feet. Females grew small mounds approximating human breasts, which contained sap during gestation or arousal. Depending from which branch they descended,
Treeples
reproduced by cuttings, buds, or seeds.

Vinese
had the least overt human properties of the three species, resembling
a large
green tumbleweed. Hundreds of leafy vine tendrils grew from a round ball body, covering it completely. They moved by rolling, clinging, or climbing, spoke from an elongated mouth tube in the upper region of their sphere, and peeped out through narrow slits of golden eyes.

Male and female
Vinese
had the same overall appearance except during gestation, when the female blossomed. They reproduced by the sole method of cuttings.

Veganoids
like Herb most resembled their human ancestors, following the normal human pattern except for a few modifications. While
Veganoids
had human skin, it was a pleasing shade of green, as was their hair which grew to great lengths in both sexes, but usually kept trimmed to ear level by the males. Some females let it twine to their ankles, but this was uncommon, since it was impractical to care for. There were other differences as well. For example, fingers and toes could extend to root into the soil for energy in case of emergency. This was a throwback to the time before their kind had evolved into the human habit of eating rather than absorption.

Herb's predecessors had been equipped to pollinate in much the same fashion that insects pollinate flowers. It was a short cut to bypass a missing element, for there were no insects on Paradise at that time. Until NWSL introduced new varieties, plants depended upon the winds to carry drifting seeds.